Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
He would ride up to the field God had lain so purposefully for him Along the final bight of an earthen track. Narrow, which climbed, as with him It swerved. He believed in God then. Fenced off, blades became thick as A dare, a moment—before confession Or asking out his girl, the one whose Crescent eyes in smile moonlit clefts In his time. He would see her moving Her body like His girl, exhaling His Name, as if He was her only breath. Through oceanic grasses she would Flow in his ear, all the warm hadal Mist of her. Aging wood throbbing From gusts of wind on the fence. Deep Enclosure of slender stalks and stems Swaying by the rhythm of an ancient Reverie. Crickets and junebugs, early Fireflies lilting, sung to him tunes of Indecipherable freedom. But not once Did he cross, not once did he ever Disturb a nature obeying the music. Only the torrid yearning he allowed To slip through the separation, knowing There it was reunited, home among The barely heard hum of the grasses Oneiric and bare. Years later, when The fence had disappeared, he once Walked through and was overcome By an emptiness thrashing against Emptiness. In a single gust, scented of His desinence, those years passed again And he thought. *Even if I’d crossed, Had joined—not disturbed. Even if*.
0
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:23 PM UTC
Fenced Off, Blades Become Thick
He would ride up to the field God had lain so purposefully for him Along the final bight of an earthen track. Narrow, which climbed, as with him It swerved. He believed in God then. Fenced off, blades became thick as A dare, a moment—before confession Or asking out his girl, the one whose Crescent eyes in smile moonlit clefts In his time. He would see her moving Her body like His girl, exhaling His Name, as if He was her only breath. Through oceanic grasses she would Flow in his ear, all the warm hadal Mist of her. Aging wood throbbing From gusts of wind on the fence. Deep Enclosure of slender stalks and stems Swaying by the rhythm of an ancient Reverie. Crickets and junebugs, early Fireflies lilting, sung to him tunes of Indecipherable freedom. But not once Did he cross, not once did he ever Disturb a nature obeying the music. Only the torrid yearning he allowed To slip through the separation, knowing There it was reunited, home among The barely heard hum of the grasses Oneiric and bare. Years later, when The fence had disappeared, he once Walked through and was overcome By an emptiness thrashing against Emptiness. In a single gust, scented of His desinence, those years passed again And he thought. *Even if I’d crossed, Had joined—not disturbed. Even if*.
daniello
Written by
Italian
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:23 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem